Becoming Harry
by andi330
Summary: Non-Magic AU. Harry Potter's parents were killed in a Car Accident when he was a year old. At age 16 he's trying to find out who they are, and who he is. With the help of family friend Remus Lupin, will Harry discover himself? Eventual HarryDraco.
1. Discovering

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. If I did, this story would be for sale in a store, and not on this website for free.

Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was nervous. On the pretense of needing research for a school project, he was sitting in the local library in front of a computer, debating the merits of what he was about to do. It was the perfect time for research. Ordinarily the library had a thirty minute limit on internet connections, however, mid-afternoon on a Thursday was always a time when there was little to no interest in the internet at this particular library. He and Ms. Johnson, the young librarian in charge of the internet use on this day of the week had come to an understanding. Unless the internet lounge filled to its capacity and people were beginning to wait for a connection, she would not kick him out when his thirty minutes were up.

Harry didn't really need to research his current paper any further. He had finished writing it more than a week ago, but the excuse got him out of the house. It wasn't the first time that Harry had lied to his Aunt Petunia and his Uncle Vernon about being finished with his homework. It was a pattern of behavior that he developed very early on in his scholastic career, and one that had spared him countless hours away from the family. It was especially effective now that his cousin Dudley was attending Smeltings, the boarding school that his Uncle Vernon had attended in his youth. Harry attended the local state school, Stonewall High. Now that he no longer needed the extra study time to finish Dudley's homework for him, it meant that he had hours of free time in which to read, or complete extra credit assignments for teachers.

Today's research was different. There were no papers to write, no homework to finish. Today, Harry was attempting to find out about his parents. Or he would be, if he could get up the nerve. He'd heard the story only once while growing up, and it was obvious that the minor details imparted by his relatives were all he was going to get out of them. Harry knew only the bare facts of what had happened the night his parents died. His parents had been out at a Halloween party that evening and had left him at home with a sitter. They'd been in a car accident, and had both been killed instantly.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon enjoyed telling Harry that his parents had been worthless drunks and that the accident that forced them to take him in was inevitable. However, Harry wasn't entirely sure that they were telling the truth. It was obvious to him that there had been no love lost between the Potters and the Dursley's. Whether that had been at his parents or the Dursley's instigation he was unsure, but the fact remained that his Aunt and Uncle hated his parents more than anything else, and that was saying something. The Department of Family Services had brought him to the Dursley's home once they had determined that these were the people who should have custody of him. Harry assumed that there hadn't been anyone else, or that perhaps his parents hadn't had a will with instructions on who should get custody.

He had now been looking at the blank search box of a popular search engine for five minutes, trying to get up the nerve to type in his parents names and locate the details of the accident. It wasn't that he wanted to read all of the gory details, he just needed to know exactly what happened. Had the accident been his parent's fault? Were they really drunk? More than anything he wanted to see a picture of them. Not of they way they looked after they died, but just to see what they looked like. He had never known. If Aunt Petunia had any pictures of James and Lily Potter, she had never seen fit to share them with Harry, and he had begun to suspect that any pictures that she had once owned had long since been destroyed.

It wasn't the first time that Harry had considered finding the information on his parents' death, but it was the first time that he had come this far in his decision to search. Screwing up his courage, and praying that he would find _something_, he entered the little information he had into the search engine. **James and Lily Potter – Car Accident – October 31, 1981**. He pushed the search button.

The page loaded quickly, bringing up several articles on the car accident on the motorway outside of Exmoor nearly fifteen years previous. The first article on the list was from the _Exmoor Times_, which Harry read from beginning to end.

**November 1, 1981 - ****James and Lily Potter, a local philanthropic couple, were tragically killed in a car accident, late yesterday evening, while returning home from a Halloween ball in Exmoor to benefit children suffering from Leukemia. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were well known in the local community for their charitable works and donations, continuing on a tradition of the Potter family held in this area for generations. Along with friends Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were returning to Godric's Hollow on the motorway, when a drunk driver crossed into their lane and hit them head on, all members of the Potter's party were killed. The driver of the second vehicle remains in critical condition at the local hospital, and is not expected to survive his injuries. Mrs. Bathilda Bagshot, a neighbor of the Potter's stated, "The Potter's have been member's of this community for generations, and are well known for their charitable works. The tragic loss of James and Lily at such a young age is something that we will not soon forget. I can only hope that their young son is raised knowing that his parents were wonderful people, who cared deeply for others, and who loved him very much." James and Lily are survived by their young son Harry, and by their one remaining housemate, Remus Lupin, who stayed home last evening to care for Harry, when the babysitter called advising the couple that she was sick, and would be unable to watch young Harry as originally planned. Mr. Lupin was unavailable for comment.**

Harry sat in front of the computer, with tears running down his face. He couldn't seem to look away from the brief newspaper article telling the story of his parent's death. It was unexpected to say the least. Not that the accident was not their fault, Harry had expected that his relatives were lying to him about that, but that he should be so upset about their deaths. It wasn't as if this were a recent occurrence, he'd been living with the knowledge of the car accident for 15 years after all.

It was at that moment that Ms. Johnson walked past his computer desk while doing her rounds of the Internet lounge to ensure that nothing inappropriate was going on. "Harry," she whispered, "what is it dear?" Ms. Johnson had a soft spot for Harry, she'd known him since he was a child, and he delighted in learning. It was always a joy to see him walk in the doors, and watch his face transform from that of a downtrodden child, to an intelligent, happy young man. She'd never seen him upset to the point of tears before; it was a disturbing sight, and one that she hoped never to see again. First though, she had to calm him down.

Harry couldn't bring himself to speak through his tears. He pointed at the computer screen, indicating that the article he was reading was somehow to blame. Ms. Johnson quickly scanned the article, eyes widening with each line. She'd known, of course, that Harry was an orphan. He never tried to hide the fact that there was no love lost between himself and his relatives. What she hadn't realized was that Harry had little or no knowledge of his parent's deaths. She hit the print button on the computer and said, "Harry dear, come with me into the office. You can do your research there in private. There's no need to look up something this upsetting out here in front of everyone. Mrs. Harris and I are the only ones here today, so there'll be an extra computer, you won't be in anybody's way."

Harry nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and following Ms. Johnson to the office. She handed him a box of tissues for his eyes and nose, and set him up on the spare computer after quietly explaining to Mrs. Harris why she was letting Harry do his research in private, rather than using the internet lounge as he usually did. Mrs. Harris, a kind older lady, slightly heavyset, grey haired and warm brown eyes, nodded sympathetically. While Harry began typing his research into the search engine again, hoping to find more articles, the two librarians read the printout of the first article he had turned up.

The two ladies eyes widened as they read the article. Philanthropic couple? But that implied that there was money! Harry was a sweet boy, everyone adored him, but he didn't look as though a penny more than absolutely necessary was ever spent on him. They spent a moment looking over the boy who had captured their hearts. He was too thin, he always had been, but he looked much smaller than he truly was due to the overlarge clothing he was forced to wear. Mrs. Harris lived near Harry's family, and she said more than once that she believed he was forced to wear his cousin's old clothes. He had messy black hair, which seemed to be either his rebellion against his relatives, or simply something the child couldn't do anything about, as he never wore it in any other style. He also had a relatively new, though obviously inexpensive, pair of glasses. The ladies suspected that the Dursleys refused to purchase new glasses for Harry until the school nurse wrote a note saying they were necessary. The boy often went years between pairs. Perhaps Harry's most striking feature of all was his eyes. They were almond shaped and the brightest green that anyone had ever seen. Right now those eyes, so striking even hidden behind glasses, were glassy with tears for the parents he had never known.

"Harry dear," Mrs. Harris said kindly, "You take all the time you need to do this research. Ms. Johnson and I don't need that computer at all today. And you print out anything that you want. There won't be any charge for the copies."

"Thank you Mrs. Harris," Harry responded quietly. "I'm sorry for being such a bother, but I wanted to know, about my parents I mean. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never tell me anything. This is the only way that I could find out."

"It's no trouble at all dear. If you need any help you just come and find me. I'll be happy to point you in the right direction."

Ms. Johnson returned to her watch over the Internet lounge and Mrs. Harris sat down behind her own computer. She doubted that Harry would think to look for his parent's will on the internet, not at this early stage. He was thirsting for knowledge, any knowledge about who his parents were, not about what they had. Mrs. Harris had no such driving reason for her search. If the article she just read had been correct, and the Potters were philanthropists known for charitable works, then they had had money with which to do those works. That begged the question, where was that money now? Certainly it wasn't being spent on their son, who often looked as if his clothes came out of the rag pile.

Mrs. Harris was going to start her own search. She was going to track down what rightfully belonged to Harry, and determine what course of action he needed to take to get what was his. She thought to herself, that the first step might be finding this Remus Lupin, who had apparently been living with the Potters in their home at the time of their deaths.

Harry in the meantime had been quietly packing his research into his rucksack, preparing to leave. "Good bye Mrs. Harris, I have to go home so that I can get supper started. Thank you for letting me look in here."

"It was no trouble dear," Mrs. Harris replied. "You come back when you can dear. As long as there is a spare computer, you don't need to do this research out in the public eye. If you'd like, I can see what I can find for you."

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother…"

"It's no trouble dear, I am a research librarian after all. I'll print out and save anything I run across for you dear. How's that?"

Harry smiled shyly, "I'd really appreciate it Mrs. Harris. I don't get to come here as often as I'd like, and I don't have internet access at home. It makes looking this up difficult."

"Don't you worry dear. I'll bring the research home with me, you stop by on your way home from school to pick it up. I have Tuesday and Thursday afternoons off. If I'm not in on those afternoons, I'll leave a folder tucked in the door for you if there's anything new."

"Thank you so much! It's just, I've always wanted to know, and my aunt and uncle wouldn't tell me anything."

"You hurry home now dear, I'd hate for you to get in trouble and lose any library privileges."

"Yes Mrs. Harris. Will you tell Ms. Johnson that I said goodbye?"

"I'll tell her dear. Run along now."

"Bye."

As Harry left, Mrs. Harris turned back to her computer and typed **Remus Lupin** into her search engine.


	2. Old Friends, New Allies

Disclaimer – If I owned Harry Potter, I would be filthy stinkin' rich, and you'd have paid to read this story.

**Chapter 2 – Old Friends, New Allies**

Dr. Remus Lupin was a professor of Religious Studies at a small privately funded University near Epsom. It was a position that he maintained, despite many offers of better positions, including some head of department jobs, in order to remain as close to Little Whinging, Surrey as possible. For fifteen years, he had been hoping to get the Dursleys to change their minds regarding contact with Harry Potter, so far with no luck. The couple had not managed to have him legally banned from contact, as had been their original intent, but either Harry wasn't interested in making contact with him, or he wasn't receiving the letters that he sent.

It was nearing Halloween, a time of year that Remus especially hated. It was at this time of year that Remus remembered the night that he lost everyone who had ever meant anything to him. It had taken time for Remus to recover from the losses of his closest friends, but the loss of Harry had been especially devastating. Never mind that James and Lily would not have wanted their son to be raised by the Dursleys, never mind that there was ample money with which to raise Harry. After nearly a year of court battles which drained Remus emotionally the judge had made the pronouncement that, as Harry's legal guardian had died in the car at the same time as the Potters, Harry would have to go to his relatives.

The triumphant looks on Petunia and Vernon Dursley's faces told him everything that he needed to know. The battle had not been about what was best for Harry, at least not on their part. No, the Dursleys knew that there was money to be had, for whomever raised Harry. They wanted the money that came with the child, not the child himself. The only plus in the entire case was that the judge had ruled that there was no legal basis to have Remus excluded legally from little Harry's life. The restraining order requested by the Dursleys would not be granted. Unfortunately for Remus, this didn't prevent the Dursley family from keeping Harry away from him. He'd been sending Harry regular letters from the day the judge made the decision. As the years past the number of letters had dwindled, particularly when no response was received. He had gone from writing every week, to every month, and now was finally down to three times a year: Christmas, Harry's Birthday and Halloween.

_It's still gut wrenching,_ thought Remus. _It never seems to get any better, no matter how much time has passed. I wonder if I would still feel this way, if I knew how Harry was. Even with no actual contact, if I knew that he was happy and healthy, maybe I could move on. It's the not knowing that hurts the most, that and being sure that James and Lily would have wanted me to be involved in Harry's life. They would have wanted _me_ to raise their child._

Remus sighed. There was no hope for it. He had friends in the legal field. On more than one occasion he inquired as to whether he would be in a better position to sue for custody, now that he was a little bit older, had a home and an established career. They had all agreed. As time went on it became less and less likely that a custody suit would be successful. Not because Remus was unable to prove that he would be an ample guardian for the child, but because he no longer knew the boy. As of now, it would be unlikely that the suit would make it in the door of any courtroom. Harry didn't know him, except possibly from letters that he never responded to. If Harry were removed from his relatives by the courts, it was possible that he could be named a suitable guardian, as there were no other relatives to take him in. Otherwise Remus had little chance of ever adopting his Harry.

In preparation to leave work and go home for the evening, Remus turned back to his computer. He had several emails from students to deal with before he left for the evening. He had finished sending emails of advice to students and scheduling one or two meetings when one final email arrived in his mailbox. He didn't recognize the name of the sender, but neither had the firewall recognized it as spam. Curious, Remus opened the email, wondering if it had somehow slipped through the cracks of the latest spam filter. It read:

_Dear Dr. Lupin,_

_We have never met and you don't know me, but I believe we may have a mutual acquaintance. My name is Mary Harris, and I am one of the Librarians at the public Library in Little Whinging. I have recently been assisting a young man in the research of his parents and the accident that took their lives and found your name in one of the articles reporting on their deaths. _

_The young man I am assisting doesn't know that I am contacting you at this time; in fact I doubt he thought of it yet. He was, when last I watched him research, very focused on the accident in general, though it was obvious that he wanted more information than just how his parents died. He has limited time available to him to complete his research, and so, I offered my assistance. _

_I am contacting you, before speaking to the young man in question, in order to prevent him from any heartache. It is entirely possible that you have moved on with your life and do not wish to bring up the painful memory of the tragic death of several of your friends. Please, do not feel that I am attempting to pressure you into any kind of relationship with this boy. However, I am afraid that my young man will find very little information of a personal nature regarding his parents in his research. Certainly, he will be able to find lists of charities that they donated to and sponsored, perhaps even the names of old school friends, but this is all very impersonal information and the child seems desperate to know his family._

_If you know the child of whom I speak, and you would be interested in corresponding with the boy, please send me an email. I would like to set up a meeting between us before providing your information to the young man in question. He may be sixteen and nearly an adult, but I do feel that it is my responsibility to ensure that the person I am introducing him to, is one who will not take advantage of him. _

_Thank you for your time,_

_Mary Harris_

Remus sat in shock for a full five minutes before even beginning to think of an answer. This woman, someone whom he had apparently never met, was contacting him on behalf of Harry because he was looking for information on his parents. _His Harry_ knew so little about his parents that he had to research them on the internet as if they were a school project. He had known, _he had been sure_ that Petunia had no interest in Harry, except for the money that would come with raising him, but he had never imagined that it would be this bad. He would arrange a meeting with this Mary Harris. Meeting Harry was something that he had been praying for now for fifteen years. Now he had his chance. Petunia and Vernon couldn't keep Harry from him if they didn't know the meeting would take place. It seemed that there was much that his Harry needed to know about his parents.

* * *

Harry sat on the bed in what was, supposedly, his room. In reality the room he occupied was nothing more than a repository for all of the toys that his cousin either didn't want or had broken. What little furniture occupied the room consisted of a rickety old bed with a sagging mattress, a toddler sized nightstand and a desk and chair so old and uncared for that Harry suspected they were found at a yard sale and purchased for less than a pound. Old though it might be, the desk in this room was well used, and well loved by the occupant. It was at this desk that Harry was free within the home.

He had learned early on that the only real chance that he had to escape the life the Dursleys had planned for him was to study hard and do the best that he possibly could in his classes. His Aunt and Uncle hadn't been thrilled about this. They wanted their son to be better than their nephew in school, but it simply didn't work out that way. Harry had a natural intelligence that allowed him to achieve superior grades with only a modicum of effort. The unfortunate consequence of this evidence of Harry's mental superiority was an unspoken requirement that Harry complete Dudley's homework in addition to his own. They had hoped that forcing Harry to complete Dudley's work would leave him little time to do his own. While Harry had always found the requirement that he complete Dudley's work unfair, it had the effect of doubly reinforcing all of the learning he did at school. If anything, the Dursley's insistence that Harry complete all of Dudley's homework had made him an even better student.

The desk was currently covered in books on World War II. Harry's most recent school paper had been on the relocation of London children to the British countryside, and the ways in which this program affected the short-term economy in rural England. The paper topic had been a challenge, as it required him to utilize his skills at mathematics to present the data in such a way that would be understandable by the layperson without making the paper boring. He was pleased with the result, and knew that his teacher would be as well.

Ordinarily, any research that Harry was conducting would be spread out across his desktop. It was his favorite place in the house to work. Unfortunately, while his Uncle wouldn't touch any school library books (it took only one bill from the school for Vernon to realize that destroying school property was a poor way to punish the boy) internet research was another matter entirely. It was too dangerous to leave this particular research out at any rate. Harry knew very well that the Dursley's would throw a fit if they discovered that he was attempting to learn about his parents. If they caught him, it could mean being forced out of the house. Harry didn't especially like living with the Dursleys, but he wanted to attend University, and if they kicked him out, it could significantly delay his goals.

In order to attend University, Harry would need top marks on his A Level exams, particularly because his relatives would never agree to pay for his education. It had been a fight to get permission to continue on to sixth form studies. It was only after pointing out that with good A Levels he would be able to attend a University, perhaps even earning an academic scholarship, which could potentially get him out of the house sooner, that got the Dursleys to agree to the continuation of his education. Despite the fact that they hated him, they wouldn't be able to justify kicking him out before he was able to find a job that paid enough to allow him to support himself. They would never hear the end of it from the neighbors, most of who had realized that Harry was not the juvenile delinquent that the Dursleys purported him to be, soon after Dudley left for Smeltings. When the neighborhood parents realized that their children's fear of being beaten up ended when Dudley left for school in the fall, only to start again whenever he returned home, it quickly became clear who was actually causing the neighborhood problems.

With the discovery that it was Dudley who had been beating up their children, the neighborhood parents had descended upon the Dursleys en masse, demanding that something be done about their son when he was at home from school. They had also taken an interest in the way that Harry was treated. The occasional unexplained bruising that cropped up even while Dudley was away had prompted a call to Social Services. While the worker had not found any evidence that the Dursleys were mistreating Harry, it had scared Vernon into keeping his hands to himself from that point on. Harry was grateful to whomever had made the call, though he would never have told the social worker that his uncle had beaten him up. Vernon was too fat to catch Harry on a regular basis, and Harry knew that all foster homes were not as nice as they were cracked up to be. By the time anyone had bothered to take an interest in his welfare he was already fifteen. He believed that with Vernon no longer even trying to hit him, he could survive the three years it would take him to finish his compulsory education and his A Levels without having to leave the house he had grown up in.

Tonight he was supposed to be sleeping, but he had decided to stay up late, hoping to have a chance to work on his research a little bit more without having to worry about being caught. Vernon and Petunia slept like the dead, so as long has he was quiet he could potentially have hours to work, though he wouldn't need it. He had only printed articles related to his parents' death at the library that day, hoping to glean enough information from them to begin further research. _If I can just find enough information on them to go further, _he thought, _then I could really begin to find out about them. Names of friends, or other more distant relatives would be helpful, even birth years._ Harry paused in his thinking to listen carefully. It was nearing midnight and he was just starting to hear his uncle's snoring coming down the hall. _Give it another five minutes,_ he thought to himself, _then it'll be safe to start._

Sure enough at about five past midnight, his uncle's snoring had reached the point that it could wake the dead. Harry quietly reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, climbed out of the bed and reached underneath to lift the loose floorboard where he hid anything he didn't want his relatives to find. Vernon and Dudley were too fat to get to it, and Petunia never bothered to come in to Harry's room. After retrieving the printouts of the articles, a fresh notebook that he had purchased just for his search, Harry got back on the bed, and began writing basic facts that he had gleaned from the various newspaper articles and obituaries he found on the internet. It hadn't yet occurred to Harry that an ordinary car accident wouldn't have garnered the attention that his parents' death seemed to have spurred. After an hour, Harry had the following list of details to look up:

James Potter b. 27 March 1960, d. 31 October 1981

Lily Evans Potter b. 30 January 1960, d. 31 October 1981

Godric's Hollow, Somerset, England

Sirius Black d. 31 October 1981

Peter Pettigrew d. 31 October 1981

Remus Lupin (still living?)

Bathilda Bagshot (still living?)

Attended a ball for children w/ Leukemia in Exmoor the night of their deaths

Looking back over it, Harry realized that it wasn't a terribly long list. _But,_ he thought to himself, _it's more than I had to work with yesterday. So what to research next, _he wondered. _I could start with the ball. It should be easy enough to determine what charity held a ball in Exmoor on Halloween 1981. The only problem is, I have no way of knowing if the people in charge even knew my parents. No, _he decided,_ not the ball. At least, not at first. First I think I'll try to find the two people mentioned who may still be living. Starting, I think, with this Remus Lupin person. The article said that he was a housemate of my parents and was staying with me that evening. He must have known them. I wonder why he didn't keep in touch with me?_

_Then again, _he mused, _with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hating anything to do with my parents, maybe they kept him away. If they wouldn't let him see me, he couldn't force his way in. He doesn't look to be a relative. Tomorrow, _he decided, _tomorrow is Thursday and Mrs. Harris will be at home. Maybe she'll have something new for me. I'll stop by after school._

With that decided, Harry hid his research back under the loose floorboard, clicked off the light and went to sleep. He had to be at school the next day after all, and he'd need to be up in time to cook breakfast for his Aunt and Uncle. There was no need to make them especially antagonistic while he was doing something they wouldn't approve. After all, when they weren't upset with him, they mostly just ignored him, and left him alone. That was his favorite way to be treated by his Aunt and Uncle.

* * *

A/N: Be excited! Two chapters in a week! I actually seem to have a fair amount of time on my hands, so I may be updating more frequently, but no promises.


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